- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Nightly
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The night was cold,
filling with mist,
chilling her bones with extreme ease.
Her legs were bare,
turning to ice,
as she suffered in the stiff breeze.
Pockets of cash
earned in the dark,
she wrapped her coat rather tightly.
From one alley
to another,
her life went on sadly, nightly.
- COMMENTS
KOLKOREabout 16 years agoIt does not take a brain surgeon to take the first stanza as a metonymy of the second. Simply a good poem.
UnderYourSpellabout 16 years agoVery well put easy to read but still a stark warning of how it really is.
